


The Eggplant Does Not Have a 100 Carat Diamond Crown

by mutedweather



Category: Gintama
Genre: F/M, I've decided, Slow Burn, i love takatsuki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 02:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21171920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mutedweather/pseuds/mutedweather
Summary: A story of Shinsuke the host who sells words of love and the florist Tsukuyo who does not believe in love. Modern AU.





	The Eggplant Does Not Have a 100 Carat Diamond Crown

He stood outside the club and checked the time on his phone. It was three minutes past six early in the evening.

Several teenage girls in high school uniforms walked past, giggling and casting him star-struck looks. He looked away, uninterested. _ Come back in a few years after you're grown up, preferably with disposable income to waste, _ he thought to himself as he surveyed the small crowd trickling down the street. _ And preferably at our club. _

Then he saw him. A tall, shaggy man with curly, brown hair was shuffling hurriedly towards his direction.

"Shinsukeiiiiii!!!" the man screamed, waving his arms wildly as he runs.

Shinsuke waited until the man ran up and stopped in front of him.

“Shinsuke,” the man gasped as he stopped, clutching his guts, out of breath. "Oh god!" he cried, sounding like air leaking from a plastic bag, "I'm late. I'm dead. I'm going to get killed, right? Shinsuke!" 

"You’re lucky the manager is still away on his trip, Sakamoto." Shinsuke replied coolly. "Quickly go in and get ready to greet the guests in fifteen minutes."

"Fifteen?! OH MY GOD! I'm actually _ early _!"

Shinsuke glared at him, his expression stern, and promptly kicked him in the shin with his black winkle picker shoe.

"Ouch! I'm going in already!" Sakamoto cried. "That's a really nice hairdo, Shinsuke. Really nice." He reached out a hand to touch Shinsuke's carefully coiffed dark purple hair, but Shinsuke slapped his hand away.

"Touch it and it won't take me fifteen minutes to murder you right now," Shinsuke said softly.

Sakamoto pulled back his hand, with a horrified look, but just as quickly, he broke into a smile and then hurried into the club, saluting Shinsuke as he went. Above them, the sign framing the entrance lit up, and every neon letter spelling the word **MOONDREAM **came to life. That's right, theirs was not just any ordinary male host club. It had everything the usual host club offers - dreams, desires, even love, but it had just one more service - that the other clubs didn't. 

Friday nights like tonight were especially profitable, but competition was especially fierce. Shinsuke checked his phone again. He swiped the screen to open an app that brought up the view of a live recording inside a ritzy host club. But it was not _ their _host club. It was a rival host club behind their block, and their top hosts had been pulling away many of their regular clients - mostly office ladies - into their establishment for the past two weeks. 

Shinsuke observed the footage. All their hosts were wearing uniforms. A pilot, a security guard, a paramedic, a playboy bunny with a fluffy tail, a police officer - wait - isn't that illegal? Impersonating the police? The bunch of amateurs had only set up shop not too long ago and they're already swarming with clients and worse - stealing _ their _clients. One of the guys hoisted up what looked like a bazooka and set it on his shoulder. He blasted a wind shot at their club entrance, and a burst of confetti and flowers rained upon delirious, screaming women, who clapped their hands wildly. 

Shinsuke swiped away at his screen. If he was agitated, he tried not to show it. The camera disappeared from view. Pocketing his phone, he turned his heels and walked into the club, the back of his dark coat flapping. 

Inside the club, standing under the dim, blue and magenta lights, a man with shaggy, grey hair was getting the bar ready for business. He had a diagonal scar across his face, and a grim look on his lips. The man was wearing a white collared shirt and black buttoned-up vest. It was visibly free of creases and wrinkles. _ Anideshi is as disicplined and on time always, _ Shinsuke thought _ . Meanwhile those rascals…. _he glanced around the club. 

Bansai, with his big, puffed-up, spiky teal hair and a pair of sunnies so horribly out-of-fashion, was already sitting on a stool on stage and setting his microphone, his shamisen slung around his neck. “Keep the babes away from me tonight, as I have to do my job well, Shinsuke!” He yelled into the mic. 

Shinsuke pretended not to hear. Bansai seemed to have an unnatural aversion to their clients, even though he had gotten better compared to the first time he joined **MOONDREAM**. From time to time, some of the ladies tend to take a liking to him after hearing him play, a fact that he tried to hide in the presence of Kijima Matako. 

Shinsuke walked to the middle of the club and sat down on one of the purple, velvet couches. Here, he had a good view of the entire club. He knew that around this time, the top hosts were busy getting ready to look their best before welcoming the patrons. Zura was choosing his costume for the night. He had already let Zura know the other day that even though the female patrons found him incredibly attractive, wearing a white penguin’s costume on Wednesday’s Specials wasn’t going to do much for the club, since they were already providing a discount for that night. It’s just going to make the patrons angry. 

“Oh, so because there’s a discount tonight, your attire is on discount too? What kind of calculative host club are you guys?” one patron asked Shinsuke last week. 

While it’s true that they ran a male host club, there had been times when some of the female patrons preferred women in suits. Their solution was to hire a girl for when such occasions arise. Nobume, who had been filling in the position since their third highest host left - Kyuu - who was also female - had been nothing but sarcastic to their female patrons for weeks. It was no wonder their ratings have gone down and an amateur club is slowly stealing their customers away. 

The other lower-ranked hosts like Sakamoto - cleaned the men’s toilets, and were really only called around the table when they’re short-handed. Things didn’t use to be like that, but these days he had been the wildest guy every night, laughing loudly and gurgling down drinks. 

He glanced at the club once more. They have special VIP rooms where hosts will spend with patrons who spend a lot more for the night - rooms decorated with walls of roses, some wisteria, and some decorative ivy. There, they can have more privacy drinking, singing, and doing _ other things. _The non-artificial flowers in these rooms, he knows, have not been replaced for a while ever since the local florist they frequent - Mr. Hedoro, returned to his village to nurse his health. He had not given Shinsuke a tentative date of return, but has mentioned it would be more than a month. After a month had passed, Shinsuke went over to the street where Mr. Hedoro’s shop was, but it remained closed.

“He has tooth and horn troubles,” the shop owner next door told him. 

“Horn?” Shinsuke knitted his brows together. 

“Don’t tell me you never notice those horns on the top of his head.”

“No, I have, but aren’t they just horns?” 

“What do you mean it’s just horns? Isn’t it a part of the body, too?”

“But he didn’t tell me that…” Shinsuke’s voice trailed off.

As unbelievable as it sounds, he had not been able to find a florist that could match Mr. Hedero’s aesthetic sense for flower arrangements. 

“Shinsuke-sama!” A female voice called out, breaking his thoughts. 

He looked up. 

“Shinsuke-sama, there’s really an emergency!” a girl with blonde hair and side ponytail cried as she ran towards him, her outstretched hand going up and down behind her, pointing frantically to where the VIP rooms were.  


+++ 

"These are our targets." A big, rough hand slammed a page of flyer on the polished countertop. The people who gathered there look up at the owner of the hand. He retreated, pulled out a single cigarette from his pocket, slipped it into his mouth and lit it. "Moondream's hosts from number one to ten. Make sure you remember their faces, and take them out." 

He brushed the fringe that falls in the middle of his forehead with a casual flick of his finger, that silly little triangular fringe defying wax, gel, pomade, and clay. 

The flyer revealed 10 faces framed in box grids, each face with a name and a number under it. 

The first three faces were framed in larger boxes, with the first having the biggest. **TOP HOST: SHINSU** , it says. **NUMBER TWO: ZURA** . **NUMBER THREE: NOBUTASU**.

"Wait, why is there a girl here?" A stubby forefinger jabbed at the flyer aggressively. It pointed at the picture of a girl with long, dark blue hair. The name ‘Nobutasu’ flashed in a navy hue similar to the colour of her hair underneath the picture. 

"This is clearly a girl! Why is she ranked third?!" the guy wailed hysterically in a high-pitched voice. 

“You know what, Yamazaki, look at number two. Zura is also looking suspiciously female,” another voice chimed in.

“Oh my god, you are right! Are they running a hostess club or a host club? This is a scam!”

“There have been girl patrons who have been asking for female hosts in suits, I think we should also hire a girl or two..”

“I know we have never asked about this, but I still don’t see why we moved to this place,” Yamazaki started to say. “We had good business right back in Roppongi. This area is not known for our type of business. Several of our hosts have applied to other clubs, it is a loss for us.”

"Hijikata-san, I know you are eager to climb to the top of the scene with this host club, but taking out the most popular club in the area is a little ambitious, no?" 

Hijikata blew smoke into the air and glared at the sandy-brown haired boy in front of him. "Your sister loves me for being ambitious, Sougo." he replied cooly.

"My sister said you can't get it up," Sougo retorted quickly.

Immediately, bar stools fell. Glasses shattered. Hijikata swung at Sougo, who leaped over him with ease. 

Hijikata missed, and fell flat on his chest, on the countertop. "Sougo!" 

Sougo pointed the nozzle of his charcoal-coloured bazooka at Hijikata's head. 

There was dead silence and a few gasps. 

"Just~ kidding." He lifted the bazooka away. 

Hijikata sprung back into action, and grabbed him by the collar. “You little brat!”

Sougo pushed him away, straightened his collar and and brushed his shirt. “You should thank me, Hijikata-san. Right about now, Moondream is having a crisis.” He flashed a sinister smile. 

+++   
  


The time was five minutes before seven p.m., patrons were already trickling into the shop and taking their seats, and Takasugi Shinsuke was filled with insurmountable rage. And perhaps it was because of this, Bansai and the rest quickly settle in their posts without much fuss. 

“When did this happen, Matako?” Shinsuke was walking in and out of all the VIP rooms.

“Just when I was going in to check on the air humidifiers! What are we going to do?” She follows after him, anxious.

He stopped in one of the rooms. Every week, the VIP rooms are topped with fresh flowers. Some of the flowers had been imported from an alien planet, and Mr. Hedoro had told them that it would last for three months, to last until his return from his village. Yet it had only been a month, and the flowers on table tops and walls have gone brown. The decorative ivy was durable PVC, the colours solid, shiny, and because they weren’t real in the first place, they weren’t supposed to die. Yet, right now, they look like garbage dragged from the bottom of the river. There was even a foul stench coming off from them. 

Matako pinched her nose to keep out the smell.

“Impossible,” Shinsuke said softly. “They were okay just a few hours ago. The flowers in these vases -” he pointed to the table top - “They were still fresh.”

“I know right?! I remember opening the doors at two to let the cleaner boy in -”

Shinsuke spun round. “Cleaner boy?”

Matako jumped. “Y-yeah.”

“Matako, we don’t have a cleaner boy. We have a cleaner lady, and she’s sixty five.”

She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a gasp, as the realisation dawned on her that she had unwittingly let the enemy infiltrated their club.

Shinsuke knew he could not blame her. Matako would not have known, since she was in charge of food and beverages, not administration. That was supposed to be their manager’s job, and while had informed them he would return from his trip yesterday, he had extended his leave for another five days.

Shinsuke did not have enough time. He knew the women patrons will soon be asking for him. He had to get back to work. The VIP rooms absolutely must be fully booked each night, closing them off will cost them millions of yen. Per night. There was no way a florist who was capable of such elaborate decorations would be present in Odaiba right now. Right?

There was no time to act. There was no time to think. All the flowers would have to be trashed, right then, right now. Having a bare room for tonight is better than having a wall full of ugly plants.

“Call Sakamoto in. Tell him to clear all these rubbish in all six rooms in thirty minutes or face the consequences. And tell him to use the back door.”

“That makes just five minutes for each room!”

“Listen. Hotel maids only have three minutes to make the bed, clean the bathroom, vacuum the floor. He has five. Just to tear off dead plants.”

“Shinsuke! Table number four!”

“Get his ass in here now.”

+++

The tall, blonde woman with slender fingers pressed a light switch on the wall, and her whole shop bathed in light. Rows of gardenias, carnations, roses and lilies lined neatly around trolleys and steel racks with round holders. She walked towards a white resin desk, slipped behind it, and resumed trimming stalks of tulips, a stack of colourful wrappers lying close by. 

“Are these all ready for delivery? Tsukuyo.”

She looked up to the voice. “Ah, Hinowa.”

A dark-haired woman with a half ponytail walked slowly towards her, supporting herself on a wooden cane. 

“Hmm, the ones that are in the basket over there are all ready for delivery within Tokyo tomorrow. I’m preparing this last one for a special bouquet, then I’m done.”

“That’s good to hear. Today has been a busy day, so you can close earlier for tonight and get some rest.” Hinowa smiled at her kindly. “You’ve been working so hard since you relocated to Odaiba, the rent is more expensive here, too. I’m afraid that… ”

“But business is better here than before,” Tsukuyo interjected quickly. “So don’t worry about me, Hinowa. You should rest, too.”

“Ah, is that so.” Hinowa cast a small look around the shop. Business wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t exactly thriving. They used to have more staff, for other than supplying flowers and gardenscape planning, they also provided fresh flowers for host clubs and restaurants. They have scaled down now. 

Hinowa stopped, looking at her. “I never really asked, because I know you have your reasons to relocate, but I want to know what your reasons are for coming to Odaiba, Tsukuyo.”

“I just want a new change of pace and atmosphere.” 

Hinowa nodded. “I see.”

“It’s nothing beyond that.” Tsukuyo said simply, drops her gaze, and continued snipping tulips stalks. 

“I just wanted to make sure that as long as you are happy here, then I can breathe a sigh of relief. But if you can get a nice man who can look after you, I can breathe an even bigger sigh of relief..”

“Hinowa…”

“Don’t you think it’s time you consider it?”

“Consider what?”

“Marriage.”

“No,” Tsukuyo said sharply. “I’m fine without a man. Men are all garbage.”

“Ah, oh dear. You can’t say that, Tsukuyo.”

“It’s true, though. So why can’t I?”

“Well, you see. You run a flower shop, don’t you. You sell flowers to men who give them to women they love. You sell flowers at weddings, wishing the couple a happily ever after. And you -”

“I like making that kind of money. Flowers aren’t forever, they die within a week. If men are spending that kind of money on empty dreams, lie, and make promises that don’t last forever - I might as well make a living off them.”

“You know that’s not true. Some flowers do last longer.”

“But there isn’t a flower that lasts forever.”

+++ 

“Shinsu.. don’t tell me the VIP rooms are already fully booked.” 

“Ah, sorry. It will be ready soon. Let us have some drinks first, shan’t we?” He lifted a glass of wine off the table and offered it to the woman sitting next to him. 

She curled a large palm around his whole hand, then took the glass out of his hand. “Okay,” she said, winking.

Shinsuke looked at her, and smiled warmly. She was a large woman, and even in her well put together office lady attire, Shinsuke guessed that her belly was maybe three pillows wide, judging by the folds. She had pale, smooth and spotless skin, the paleness made more obvious by the bright colour of her lipstick. Her hair was tied up in a neat bun. She wasn’t particularly unattractive, but then again Shinsuke didn’t think she would look better by losing weight. _ Whatever. _His job tonight, like every other night, was to listen to everything women like her had to complain about their work, their relationships, their life, and just be a companion to them.

The woman was finishing the last drop in her glass and setting it down when Shinsuke said, “We just stocked up on some really nice wine from a vineyard from the south of France. Would you like to try that?” 

She tapped the glass with her long fingernail, without missing a beat. “Yadaa~ but you haven’t finished this, darling.” 

Shinsuke tensed up a little. She was putting on airs as a cute little kitten, but he knew better than to make her angry. Experience taught him not to judge someone from how “cute” the patrons are acting. After all, this was only their second meeting, and he hadn’t grasped a lot of her personality yet. In fact, he couldn’t even remember her name. But he wasn’t about to commit career suicide. He’s buying his time until he could recall it. If only he could recall her name...

“Of course we’ll finish it, when we move into the room.” He skillfully popped a top button off his shirt, exposing his smooth skin. He smiled at her. “But we need a new bottle of wine to go with that.”

Slowly, she leaned back onto the couch and crossed her big, powerful stockinged legs. Shinsuke followed her movement. _ How did she do that? _

“Last week, I asked for you,” she said. “I asked for you to go out with me, and I spent big money on three cases of Dom Pérignon. You blew me off!”

“With my deepest regrets and apologies,” he said, his voice low. “It is forbidden for us to go out with our clients. It is one of our club’s policies. I’m sure you have been informed at the door. I understand that many clubs have their hosts serve their clients well after hours, but our club expressly prohibits it.”

He picked up her big, plump hand. The sight of a gold ring hugging tightly at her ring finger did not escape his notice, but still, he kissed it. A smile broke at the edge of his lips. _ I got you. _“Mariko-sama, please believe me.”

He could sense the slight faltering in her hand as she took it away. She sighed. “Ok, I’ll take a bottle of that whatever Frenchie wine. I can’t believe you still remember my name.” 

“I never forget a beautiful woman.”

+++ 

“WHY. THE. HELL. AM. I. DOING. THIS. SHIT. JOB?! SHIIIIIIT!” 

Sakamoto screamed as tears ran down his cheeks, his gloved hands tearing down garlands of ivy off the walls. 

“I JUST FINISHED CLEANING THE TOILETS, DAMMIT!!!!”

“Stop being so dramatic! I’m helping you!” Matako screamed at him as she dragged a huge black plastic bag across the floor, picking up all the dead plants off the floor as she went. “These are decorative ivy. You won’t get poisoned by these!”

“I’m going to kill whoever did this! I’m going to kill them!!!” He continued to claw and rip at the wall as he yelled with fervor. Ivy and bits of brown plastic flew about the room.

“STOOOP!!! You idiottttt!” Matako slung the bag of trash against his head. 

“Oof!!” His forehead went bam against the wall. 

“Stop this right now! You’re creating a big mess! Make it fast, neat and tidy and get out before the patrons start giving everyone a hard time! If we get complaints we are going to start losing customers and that can’t happen to Odaiba’s number one host club!” 

“I’m sorry!”

"It's because of that brat who came in and sabotaged this place!! Why, if I catch him again -" she started to seethe with anger. 

"YOU'RE THE ONE WHO LET HIM IN!!!" He pointed a white gloved finger at her. "YOU'RE THE REASON WHY I'M DOING THIS RIGHT NOW!"

"I didn't mean to, alright?!"

He turned back towards the wall, dejected.

“We have one more room to go, I am going to give Shinsuke-sama a buzz when we go in. That one wall is full of thorny roses…come on! We have six more minutes!”

“I haven’t ranked within the top ten in a long time,” Sakamoto said in a small voice. “Tonight was supposed to be my chance.” He dumped the rest of the plastic into the opened bag in front of Matako.

“.....”

“I was looking forward to riding a blonde chick, too….not you, though.”

Before he knew it, a fist was flying in the direction of his face.

+++

“Tsukuyo. Aren’t you going to close up?” Hinowa asked.

“Ah, yes! Soon! Sorry, there is a huge order request that just came up.” Tsukuyo moved her fingers across the keyboard of her laptop. 

She read the address. It was an order for decorative wall of roses for a host club located just twenty minutes away from her shop. She scrunched up her face. _ A host club?! In Odaiba?! Here?! _

“Bunch of men living off women’s hard earned salaries,” she muttered to herself. 

_ But I will accept your request, _ she thought as she moved her pointer to the ‘REPLY’ button.

+++

END CHAPTER 1


End file.
